


Other Lives You've Lived

by daftalchemist



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Eldritch Abomination Cecil, M/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex, Tentacle Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-07 01:59:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1114195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daftalchemist/pseuds/daftalchemist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos is unwilling to introduce Cecil to his family, and Cecil can't help but think it's because he's a monster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Other Lives You've Lived

**Author's Note:**

> beta thanks to tumblr user vitalroot
> 
> If you're reading through this fic and going "but this isn't Cecil's canon past", that's because it's not. I'm working off of my personal headcanon for him because it's fun and I like it, and I hope you like indulging it for a while too.

The suitcase was laid open and half full on the floor of the bedroom, an assortment of clothes being dropped into it, some Cecil hadn’t even seen before. Clothes that belonged to a life he’d never seen before, and apparently never would.

He fussed at a thread on his sweater, trying to focus his attentions somewhere other than the thought that Carlos was leaving, that he was going far away for many days, and that Cecil couldn’t come.

“You have your job to do,” Carlos was saying as he rolled up a pair of socks to add to the piece of Cecil’s reality that he was blithely toting away in a burnt umber canvas box. Cecil pulled his knees to his chest, wishing the case would stop filling, that Carlos would change his mind and stay. “And don’t you want to stay here and see your family anyway?”

“You know I don’t have one,” he sighed, and Carlos stopped matching socks just long enough to blush at his mistake.

“Of course,” he said, attempting to recover from the gaffe, but it was obvious his mind was full of other things: his _own_ family, and how much he wanted to see them. Cecil wanted to see them, and Carlos knew as much. He’d never known what it was like to have a collection of people who shared traits with you, took care of you, enjoyed your company. His parents had been… hideous. Monsters that didn’t know they were even engaging in reproduction anymore than they knew the small creature that sprouted from them was theirs. It was understandable that they’d immediately ceased devouring each other and attacked _him_ instead, when he thought about it like that.

The mattress dipped as Carlos sat beside him on the bed and put an arm around his shoulders, giving him a warm smile that Cecil hated. He hated that Carlos had reason to be happy and excited, that he was going somewhere to be welcomed and loved. Wasn’t Cecil’s love enough? There was so _much_ of it. Carlos kissed his cheek and pulled him close, and Cecil put his head on Carlos’ shoulder, holding back the tears that were trying so desperately to escape.

“I’ll be back before you know it, querido,” he said, running his fingers through Cecil’s hair to soothe him, but nothing as simple as that could possibly make him feel better now.

“That’s not the problem!” Cecil cried. “Why won’t you tell them? Is it because I’m a man?”

Carlos chuckled. “I’ve brought home boyfriends before, Cecil.”

“Then _why_?”

Carlos fell silent, his hand no longer stroking Cecil’s hair, and Cecil’s breath caught in his throat. He pulled away, tears trickling down his cheeks, and Carlos just smiled, forced and sad.

“It’s because I’m a monster… isn’t it?”

Carlos said nothing, but his pained expression said everything Cecil needed to know. He ran from the room with a sob, just narrowly managing to lock himself in the bathroom before Carlos had his hand on the knob, calling his name and pleading for forgiveness; he didn’t know how to tell them, if he _should_ tell them, couldn’t Cecil understand that? Cecil didn’t know how long he sat crying on the edge of the tub, hugging himself and wishing he knew if he wanted to simply make himself get over the hurt and continue to love his boyfriend each and every day, or if he wanted to tell Carlos to leave, never come back, and never give him the opportunity to cause more pain in the future.

By the time he’d calmed down enough to unlock the door, the suitcase was gone, and so was Carlos.

* * *

“I’m sorry” was all the text said, but it was enough to put a sour tone in Cecil’s voice. He put on the weather as he picked up his phone, the story about sofa beds containing portals to unknown dimensions rather than mattresses not important enough to finish anyway. Cecil stared at the screen, his thumbs hovering over the keyboard, trying to decide what to say.

He wanted to say that Carlos _wasn’t_ sorry, that he only wanted Cecil to forgive the egregious hurt he’d done to him and be the sunny, excitable person he normally was. He wanted to say that he was tired of feeling important only when it was convenient: when it could be fit in around experiments, when it wasn’t interfering with friends or family or _anything at all_ that pertained to Carlos’ life alone. There always seemed to be one reason or another why Carlos needed to keep their relationship partitioned from everything else, but no matter how many times he explained it, Cecil never understood. He didn’t understand why it had to be family _or_ him, why it couldn’t be _both_ , why _he_ couldn’t be family too.

“I know,” he typed back, and put the phone down with a sigh. The weather would be ending soon. He needed to chase all the tears from his eyes before his listeners could hear them in his voice.

His phone buzzed almost immediately, and Cecil groaned, unable to ignore it. He was _so close_ to being back on the air. Couldn’t Carlos just leave him alone long enough to do his job properly?

“It’s just not the right time yet,” the text said, and Cecil threw his headphones off, storming out of the soundbooth before the intern could ask what was wrong. She was a smart girl; she’d figure out how to handle the situation.

He rushed through the halls and into the men’s room, locking the door behind him. He refused to let anyone see him cry, or worse.

“When will it be the right time?” He responded, and waited for his phone to vibrate again. Several minutes passed, and he kept staring at the screen, tapping it intermittently, never letting it darken, his hands shaking as though he were awaiting a death sentence, but still no response. He was about to give up, to splash some water on his face and go back to his show like the responsible professional he always claimed to be, when his phone buzzed again.

“I don’t know.”

He fell back against the door and slid to the ground, the tears that had been only a nuisance before now coming in full force as shivered and cried on the cold tile floor. There _wouldn’t_ be a right time, he already knew. Carlos might tell him how much he loved Cecil’s physical oddities behind closed doors, but he’d never stop being too ashamed to pronounce that same affection in public.

“It’s been MONTHS,” he typed back, not really expecting it to have an effect. Carlos wouldn’t change his mind about this. His family was _normal_. They were human and mortal. They wouldn’t want to hear that Carlos was dating a creature from outside their own universe. It would drive them insane to know that beings such as himself even _existed_. It had taken Carlos long enough to come to terms with it as it was. It was _reasonable_ that he wouldn’t want to tell them, and Cecil understood that, but...he just wanted to be a part of Carlos’ life, and not just the small part Carlos was willing to give him. Was that wrong? Was that why he felt so terrible about it?

His phone buzzed again. “I know.”

He sucked in an unsteady breath and began typing. “They don’t even know I EXIST.”

Not even a full minute passed before he received a response. “I’m sorry.”

He wanted to hurl his phone across the room, throw it in a toilet, flush it away, but some part of him was anguished at the thought of not being able to talk to Carlos, and he _hated_ it. He hated that he would just let Carlos keep hurting him when he _should_ just cut off contact and protect himself from the pain. But he already knew he’d just keep letting it happen because he _loved_ him, and how foolish was that?

“No, you’re not.” He typed back, and waited to see what Carlos would say to that.

He didn’t say anything. Several minutes passed with no response, because none was coming. He knew Cecil was right, so he was going to stay silent and hope this turned into just another forgotten issue left on the wayside of this rocky and pitted road they were deluding themselves into calling a relationship.

He picked himself up off the floor. The show was almost over by now. He may as well go home and feel miserable in the comfort of his own apartment. It was better than losing control of his life in a public restroom.

* * *

It was late, incredibly late, but Cecil found he wasn’t able to sleep. Or rather, he didn’t want to. He was waiting, though he didn’t quite know what for, or why. His phone had been silent since he’d returned home. It didn’t surprise him. What could Carlos possibly say to him that wouldn’t be an obvious change of subject, or pointless attempt to dodge the problem they were facing? It didn’t bother him. The gripping pain that had been suffocating him all day had long since given way to a gnawing emptiness; a void that swallowed all emotion and feeling in its gaping black maw. It was comforting, enjoyable even, and he didn’t want it to stop.

He’d found some solace in sharing a meal with his thoughts; _good_ food for once. Despite the number of times Cecil insisted Carlos cook dinner for him, he never seemed to improve. Not that Cecil minded, of course. He was just happy to have a boyfriend who would cook for him, even if his own cooking was vastly superior. A good meal alone was just what he’d needed though. This whole situation...it made him feel crazy, or maybe more crazy than usual. He was pretty sure he sounded like a shrieking lunatic trying to force his way into someone else’s life, like his own millennia long existence just wasn’t enough and he had to forcibly wear the skin and trappings of another just to feel complete. Or something like that. He probably wouldn’t wear Carlos’ skin, but definitely his trappings. He just couldn’t help but want to be a bigger part of Carlos’ life. Yes, there were difficulties and concerns; he understood that. One sentence said in just the right tone could have him manifesting in minor but _very_ noticeable ways right there at the family dinner table, but... how could he even consider what he and Carlos had serious if Carlos wasn’t even willing to trust Cecil to keep his human form intact for a night?

Cecil sighed and rolled over in bed, checking his phone again, something he’d been unable to stop obsessively doing all night. No messages, no missed calls, no emails, no surprise. Maybe _he_ should be the one to apologize, just get this stupid argument out of the way. He hadn’t done anything wrong, of course, but… living with the silence, even just for a day, was too much just for the sake of being right. He was right, but he was also alone, like he had been for so many centuries before Carlos came along, and he didn’t want to be that anymore.

He was pulled out of the light sleep he had fallen into by his face being illuminated quite brightly by his phone, suddenly vibrating its way off the bed with an incoming phone call. Cecil scrambled to catch it before it fell, not even remembering to check who was calling before immediately putting the phone to his ear.

“H-hello?” he asked, slightly out of breath after being woken with such a jolt.

“Cecil,” came a voice that was heavy with remorse.

Cecil leaned back into his pillows with a sigh. “Carlos.”

The line went silent for a moment, just long enough for Carlos to collect his thoughts and think of something to say. “You sound, uh...did I wake you?”

“Oh, no,” Cecil replied, feeling more awkward by the second. “I was still awake.”

“So late?”

“It’s not that late, Carlos. I’m always up until…” he glanced at the clock and groaned, “four in the morning.”

Carlos chuckled. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Cecil ran a hand through his hair and sighed, the weight of the day suddenly washing back over his heart, filling his chest and drowning him in the all too familiar sensation of being an unwanted embarrassment. “I’ve had a lot on my mind….”

“Right,” Carlos said, then fell silent again. “Listen, Cecil… about that-”

“It’s… fine, Carlos,” Cecil began. “I understand. I know myself, and how I am. You can’t trust me to stay human around them and…” He shrugged, tears stinging his eyes. “Well, I don’t blame you for not telling them or wanting them to meet me, so…”

He trailed off as his voice began to shake, tears trickling down his cheeks. He wasn’t going to be able to convince Carlos he was okay with all of this if he could hear the sorrow in his voice.

“Cecil,” Carlos said in that lovingly admonishing kind of way that suggested Cecil was being silly again. “My mother would like to know when you’re going to come meet everyone.”

Cecil sat upright with a gasp, his entire body trembling as the most indescribable warmth began to fill him, loosening all of the heavy tension that had been weighing him down all day. “You… told them about me?”

“No, I didn’t,” Carlos continued. “I was _going_ to, but it seems my sisters could tell right away that I had someone special in my life. Apparently I’ve never been so happy and talkative before.”

The tears streaming down Cecil’s cheeks were no longer tears of sorrow. “I make you happy?”

“Of course you do, querido,” said Carlos, and Cecil could hear his smile in his voice. “You make me incredibly happy. Everything about you does, and I do mean _everything_. I just… don’t know exactly how to share all of that happiness with other people yet.”

“Oh,” Cecil replied, not really knowing what else to say. “But… you do _want_ to share it, right?”

“Of course I do!” Carlos chuckled. “You think when my co-worker starts running his mouth about some girl he had over the weekend, that I _enjoy_ not being able to shut him up with tales of the things you’ve made me feel? It’s agonizing, believe me.”

Cecil put his hand to his mouth, hiding the grin no one was even around to see, the warmth in his chest becoming almost unbearable. “You want to brag about me?”

“Who wouldn’t?” said Carlos, his voice tinged with barely contained desire. “Spending all day in bed, _literally_ wrapped in a gorgeous naked man? Who wouldn’t brag about that?”

Something in Cecil’s gut coiled wonderfully tight, and his tendrils twitched at the sensation, unfurling slowly. He palmed them gently, trying to keep them from getting caught between his boxers and himself, and just _barely_ managed to stifle the soft moan that escaped his lips.

“Cecil?” Carlos asked, and Cecil cursed inwardly at how excellent his hearing was. “Are you okay?”

“F-Fine, just…” He trailed off, his voice too shaky, and took a steadying breath. “I thought you were ashamed of… my extra limbs and all.”

“Because I don’t tell people about them? _Cecil_.” He could practically hear Carlos shaking his head in amusement. “I don’t tell people about them because I want to keep them all to myself.”

Cecil’s tendrils twitched again, pressing against the soft fabric of his boxers. “That’s just silly, Carlos. Who would take them from you?”

“Anyone? _Everyone_!” Carlos replied, his voice a little breathy. “Who _wouldn’t_ want to get their hands on you if they knew what you could do with those tentacles of yours?”

Cecil’s face burned as he whimpered, grasping his tendrils more firmly. “Carlos, you’re doing that on purpose.”

“Doing what, querido?” he asked, but Cecil could hear the sly grin in his voice.

“ _Teasing_ me,” he said with another whimper as he slipped his hand under the waistband of his boxers and gave his tendrils a long pull. “You’re saying such wonderful things, and you’re too far away for me to thank you properly.”

“Oh, is that what I’m doing?” Carlos said with mock surprise. “I thought I was just telling you how much I love your body pressed against mine, feeling your erratic heartbeat through your cool skin, listening to you begging me to touch you”

Cecil shuddered and whined, heavy-lidded eyes blinking open on his forehead, and bit his lip as he wrapped his tendrils around his fingers. “I _do_ want you to touch me.”

“I want to as well, querido,” he said, his voice dark and gorgeous. “I want you wrapped around my hand, making a slick mess of of my fingers.”

Cecil moaned deep in his throat as Carlos detailed exactly what he was already doing, as though the scientist were touching him instead. “They do make a mess.”

Carlos hummed in agreement. “I love your mess though. Love to let it make my fingers soaking wet and slippery enough to slide them inside you, open you up.”

As though instructed, Cecil released his tendrils with a whine and reached back, pressing his slick fingers against his hole for just a moment before pushing them inwards. He met with no resistance from his body, but scissored his fingers anyway, just like Carlos always did. He immediately put his phone on speaker, freeing up his other hand to tear off his boxers and twine his fingers through his throbbing tendrils, whining loudly at the combined sensations.

“Are you feeling good, querido?” Carlos asked, sounding more and more breathless by the minute. “Feeling full?”

“N-no,” he whined, pressing his fingers in as deeply as he could, but feeling nowhere near satisfied. “I need _you_ , Carlos.”

“I know. I’m sorry I can’t be there.” He went silent for just a moment. “Why don’t you use one of those tentacles I love so much?”

A few of them sprouted from Cecil’s sides just from _hearing_ the suggestion. “I… could do that, y-yeah.”

“Do it,” Carlos insisted. “I want to hear your sweet voice screaming my name.”

Cecil turned over, pressing his cheek into the mattress just next to his phone, and pulled his fingers free from his body with a whimper before slipping one of the tentacles over the slick mess he’d made of his hole. He shuddered at the touch, then thrust it inward with a cry, moaning as the wriggling thing spread him wide open, filling him in the way he desperately needed. His tendrils thrashed against his stomach, seeking the friction they’d been enjoying just moments before, and Cecil ran his fingers through them, curling them around his fingers and giving them a firm tug, thrusting the tentacle inside him deeper with each stroke of his dripping tendrils. He moaned Carlos’ name as he trembled all over, the tension in his groin growing heavy and burning hot, but it wasn’t enough. Something wasn’t working quite right. He needed _something_ more, but...

“ _God_ , Cecil,” came Carlos’ voice through his phone, thick with desire. “You’re so perfect. I wish I could see how gorgeous you look.”

Cecil buried his face in the mattress and wailed, thrusting the tentacle deeper and deeper as he rode through his orgasm, his tendrils pouring inky black liquid over his hand, puddling on the sheets. They writhed eagerly against his fingers, milking themselves until the last drop of black splattered against the bed, and he collapsed in a trembling mess on top of it, slowly withdrawing the tentacle from his body.

He grabbed his cell phone and stared at it almost reverently as he gasped for breath, flushed a deep purple and grinning like a lovestruck fool. “Was that good?”

“Incredibly,” Carlos replied, and Cecil could hear the same smile in his voice. “I think I’d like to watch you do that when I get home.”

Cecil bit his lip, his teeth still sharp enough to draw pinpricks of blood. “I’ll do that for you anytime, Carlos.”

“I would love that, Cecil,” said Carlos, his voice a bit strained, as though he were trying to get comfortable, but failing. “You have no idea how much.”

“Carlos,” Cecil began, “did you…”

“No,” he replied. “I’d _love_ to, believe me. Just _listening_ to you, your _voice_ …” He trailed off with a shuddering sigh. “But I’m in my old room, laying on a Transformers blanket, and staring at action figures and photos of me as a kid, so I’d rather not stick my hand in my pants, no matter how much I _want_ to. It just feels weird, you know?”

“Oh, of course,” Cecil said, though he didn’t understand why it would feel weird. He certainly believed that Carlos felt it did, however. “You have… pictures of you? As a child?”

“Yeah, just from after school sports and science fairs and stuff,” he could practically hear Carlos shrug, thinking it all so unimportant and mundane.

Cecil chewed his lip. “I didn’t know you as a child… Could I see them? Maybe? Would that be weird?”

Carlos chuckled. “It’s not weird at all, querido. I want you to see them.”

Cecil grinned and held the phone closer, as though he could snuggle up against Carlos’s voice. “I’d really like that. I’d like to know about you, and your family. All of the things you did before Night Vale, really, if that’s okay.”

Carlos chuckled softly. “You’ll learn all about my life before you when you come visit my family, I promise.”


End file.
